


no words

by enchisms



Category: The Little Mermaid (1989)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, a touch more historical accuracy than disney cares for, also? real world geography? not a thing here thx
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:27:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23507605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enchisms/pseuds/enchisms
Summary: the lagoon produces true love's kiss, and with it ends up spinning a web larger than ariel could have imagined.
Relationships: Ariel/Eric (Disney)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 65





	1. day two, pt 1

**Author's Note:**

> originally i'd started this back on ff.net under the same title, dropped it, and i'm now giving the plot another go.

There were hints, and then there were _hints_.

Hints were when the air felt heavy just before a storm rolled in, letting sailors know it would be best to postpone voyages. They were when your father let his steps fall heavy on his way to your chambers, letting you prepare for bad news before you even see his frown. They were when your eighteenth birthday kept creeping ever closer and your personal mail looked more like a dance card, letting you know that no one has forgotten that the clock is ticking.

 _Hints_ were when the entire week before a long-planned trip there are thunderstorms all along the coast, convincing even the most against superstitions that it would be best to stay home. They were when bar patrons don’t hold their tongue on their opinions on the latest royal visitors, convincing you without a doubt that this princess would not be fit for your kingdom’s future. They were when you survive your ship exploding in the middle of the sea and awakening to an angel serenading you, convincing you that love was real and worth fighting for – who ever it’s for.

This moment, where your lids felt heavy and the fireflies buzz in an almost a melodious hum, knees touching and electricity sparking from the touch of your fingertips…

It’s a _hint_.

And just like all the other hints you’ve received through the years and will receive for many more, you take it. With an intake of breath that shakes much more than it should for an heir, you close your eyes and take her lips to swallow her sigh, and it feels like puzzle pieces finally falling together.

Then you’re overboard.

* * *

Air, air, air!

Ariel instinctively flails her arms, her legs, every part of her that she can, until her head pops out of the water with a lot less force than she expected. It catches her unaware, enough to get her to stop moving and realize, oh, this isn’t deep at all. They had gotten a lot closer to the shore than she’d thought, and she could actually just stand with the water just barely at her shoulders. It was embarrassing, and would have done more damage to her pride if it weren’t for how Eric had also splashed up a storm before he came to the same conclusion as her.

As it were, it lets them share an awkward chuckle when their eyes meet. Eric brings a hand up, a universal symbol to wait, and she does, then makes his hurried if waterlogged way to their upside down raft. She watches with undisclosed amusement as he brings it back over to them, collecting the oars along the way, and she takes pity on his heroics enough to begin her own slow walk closer.

“Oh, you don’t- I was just about-” She tilts her head at him, smirk on her lips finishing the sentence she cannot say. Eric gives a sigh, chin dropping to his chest with a shake, but it’s not as if there’s another choice for him to accept. He splashes water at her instead, delighted at the squeal that erupts from her, and hauls himself back onto the raft. “Come on then, the sooner we’re out of here, the better.”

She takes his hand, and when they end up stumbling on top of each other she tries to not be too sad that there’s only one laugh ringing in the night.

* * *

Deep under, in trenches unattainable yet by mortals, there’s a pained howl that shudders through the water. A shell glows yellow in the dark before its lines are traced with the fire of magic, sealing its contents from future use, and it only makes its wearer’s frustration grow.

This was not the plan.

* * *

“Sebastian, psst! Sebastian!”

There’s only so much more water that he’ll be able to follow up on before they hit solid ground, and he needs an answer to sleep well tonight. Although, if it’s not the answer he’d like, then he won’t be able to sleep anyway. But that’s not the point! The point is to stay optimistic! The point is for Sebastian to talk to him!

He gives a little growl, menacing only to guppies younger than himself, but it seems to do the trick as the crab is now perched on his nose. Flounder’s tailfin wags excitedly, but the droop in the old crabs eyes snuffs that out as quick as it started.

“Wha-?”

“They kissed, but she doesn’t have a voice. Seems she’s… she’s stuck a mute, boy.”

“Oh.” It wasn’t the worst news, and he felt conflicted over how exactly to react. “W-well, maybe we can still fix that! At least, at least this means he loves her! And that no good Ursula won’t be getting her hands on Ariel! Yeah, this is nothing!” Optimism won in the end, and the blind bravery of a child gave Flounder’s words an extra punch.

Sebastian gave a hum, waving a claw noncommitting in the air. “I hope so. You head on home, I’ll keep an eye on her meself. I’ll send Scuttle if nothing, alright?” Not waiting for an answer, he jumped his way back up to the slow-moving carriage, leaving the fish dead in the water as the bridge came to an end.

“Y-yeah, alright…”

* * *

“He hasn’t said anything?”

“It’s been two days!”

“I seriously doubt he hasn’t like, really, like, not said anything. I mean, this is Daddy, after all, and—”

“Exactly!” The sharp outburst from the mermaid at the center of their rambles quickly quieted any other comments. The brunette casted a sharp glare all around the dining table, the younger mermaids avoiding her look as it made its way. However, once she reached the last seat, all the louder in its emptiness than ever, she visibly softened with a sigh.

In the small silence, they returned their attention to their plates, and tried to once again ignore the shark in the room. As all things with sisters, even more so with six of them, there is always an explosion to be found.

“Okay, seriously, Attina?” The brunette in question, the very same who had just delivered individual glares, merely raised an eyebrow to the blonde. “What’s Daddy told you?”

“Nothing, Andrina. I’m just as in the dark as all of you, and—” she stressed the word, drawing it out as she felt all her siblings take in a breath, “I don’t like it either. In case you’ve all forgotten, Ariel’s my sister too.”

Her words did little, if anything, to diffuse the unease between the mermaids, and she knew it. For as different as they all were, they all shared a dislike for inactivity. They simply expressed it in their own way, and it wouldn’t be a problem if it weren’t seven different ways that their family had to deal with. Attina knew it was only a matter of time before this itch under their scales got to a true eruption. She had to manage their tempers before it came to a head towards their father, as absent as he’s been the last couple of days and possibly very deserving of such an eruption.

“Why don’t we,” she stumbled, uncharacteristic and hating every millisecond that coherency escaped her, “talk about it?” Attina directed her gaze to the ceiling, praying that this wouldn’t get out of hand, and took a deep breath as she brought her gaze back to her sisters. Their smiles were far too eager, and it was with a groan that she let the eruption overtake the dining table.

* * *

His shoulder was strong, and warm, and his voice was smooth like a stingray’s back, making her body lax as their carriage made its way back to the castle. Ariel was stubbornly trying to focus on that, the good in this moment as the moon lit their path and the land provided its own music. She tried to focus on more than the sound of Eric’s voice, to actually make sense of the words he’s putting forth because they had to be important, but it was difficult to focus that much.

Her legs hurt. So did her feet. And her hips. Everything south of her stomach, really, and it was getting harder to not react to it.

It wasn’t a familiar pain, and as such she had no idea how to remedy it. The closest she could think of is whenever her fin would get stuck between rocks and coral, that stinging pinch and the following burn once it’s finally released, going just that much deeper than when her fingers would get pinched closing her grotto. Either way, the remedy was some kelp, some of Alana’s plankton extract, and a good dose of Aquata’s scolding to make her pride burn enough that she forgot the pain. All of which were out of reach.

She was fairly certain that magical side-effects wouldn’t be fixed by that either way.

“—won’t be able to see you until dinner, I hope.” She winced, ducking her head even further in her embarrassment. “But I mean, we still have time to get to know each other better! At least, until we get word from your family.” Her hands tightened in her lap, unsure of how else to respond. “I-I’m sorry, that was, that wasn’t sensitive of me. My mother would kill me if she heard me say that.”

Eric’s laugh is awkward and warms her heart to hear it. She shifts her position, drawing back enough to see his unease and the warmth in his eyes. There’s so much she wants to tell him, the words piling up in her throat and making it burn. And just like her legs, the remedy for that is another one unattainable. It’s frustrating, but she has to remember that Eric should not bear the brunt of those frustrations, not for all the effort he’s putting forward.

She leans up, giving him a gentle kiss just shy of the corner of his mouth, smiling as she does so. She feels his back stiffen and takes the opening to cuddle close to his side, making sure to press her forehead against that wonderfully warm neck. It rumbles when he gives another laugh, and the press of his chin atop her head is just as pleasant.

“Guess that means no hard feelings?” Ariel nods softly and a silent chuckle escapes as he dramatically blew out air. “Good, good. Then, uh, feel free to relax, we should get home, I mean back to the castle, my home, in about fifteen minutes. It’s been a long day so, you can rest.”

She shifts again, pressing closer to his side and gleeful that he makes no move to stop her. Her hands are still clenched, rubbing her dress’ fabric tightly between her fingers, and has to make the conscious decision to relax her jaw. She’s yet to feel the burn of a fire, and as such has no word for the pain engulfing her legs, but pain is pain, continuously making her clench her jaw in futile attempts to halt it.

It’s worth it.


	2. day two, pt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm like soooo bad at pacing. so bad. apologies.

The mood is heavy as over a dozen merman file into the castle. King Triton leads them, back straight even as his frown hasn’t moved for the past ten hours. They had expanded their search to just barely at the corners of the city’s border, in areas that haven’t had royalty pass through in years, and he dreaded the thought that Ariel would be in these parts. But as each hour passed and their search continued to fail to even bring up a clue, he started to wish that she would appear in one of these buildings.

He guides them into a conference room, walking past an increased number of guards throughout the halls. All of them are armored as can be without alarming the state of the kingdom, too much and it would imply a direct threat has been pinpointed. As it is, if the atmosphere in the residence wasn’t heavy enough, seeing so much metal does little to alleviate it. It is a measure that had to be taken, until they could either find Ariel or figure out who took her and if it was going to be a danger to the rest of his daughters.

The thought of his six daughters makes him rub at the bridge of his nose. In the past two days, he had admittingly spent little time with them. It was… not completely accidental. He had no news to give them, no good news at least. All he could really say is all the areas that Ariel was not in, and he could easily point at two daughters that would get more anxious with that knowledge. And then point at two more that would get flared tempers, and that would create a vicious loop of guaranteed pain.

And two that he had no idea how they would react.

Once the conference room closes and all the merman have taken a seat, Triton clasps his hands atop the table. He takes a moment to let his gaze pass over their tightly drawn faces and slowly releases his breath as his eyes travel.

“Given all that we’ve covered today, I believe it best for us to review and ensure we all remain on the same page. General Markos, please, lead the way with your team.”

* * *

Deep inside her cave, Ursula let her frustration seep out as the yellow bubble floating in front of her showed her the same thing it had all evening: nothing. It has showed her countless different views of the castle grounds, all the flora decorating the gardens, and most of all, the tripled number of guards seeming to cover every opening. In the end, it was all nothing.

“Take a break, boys. And then— split up if you have to, see if there’s anything you can hear but not see. Mama needs something to keep this show moving.” Immediately after her words, the bubble pops and shadows fill in the cave in the absence of its glow. It does nothing to sooth her mood, hands gripping at the edges of her coral cauldron. There had to be something swimming around the castle, something that she could use to her advantage.

“Thanks to that little tramp, this deal just got a whole lot tougher. Who would’ve thought she’d actually make it work?” She’s talking to no one in particular, shouting in a dark abyss that had been her company for decades. Sure, there’s all the countless merpeople who failed to hold up their end of the bargain, shriveled and miniaturized all around the ground, but they’re not there to listen or speak. There are there for her to gloat, her trophies at all she had outsmarted.

She didn’t like being the one outsmarted.

Ursula takes a deep breath, throwing her head back and letting it out with a low-toned shout, a howl for all the echo her home gave it. “Why did she have to make it work?” She pushes away from the cauldron and flings herself to the little alcove that also doubled as her bed. “First opening in Poseidon knows how long, and she’s already gone and closed it up! I thought this was a winner, I’m not an idiot, I wouldn’t have taken this chance with the likes of Adella.” A pause, her mind and body taking a breath before she mutters, “Arista would’ve been an easier target.” And then another growl.

“But none of them push back, they’re all such dutiful little princesses.” The last three are said nasally, fists clenching tighter in anger. “Triton says ‘jump’ and the only one who’d sit is Ariel. Dammit it all! This could have all been so beautiful.”

She stews in silence, mind working too quick for her mouth to keep up. This wasn’t going to be the end of it. Even if the kingdom wasn’t just at her fingertips, she wasn’t about to let some snotty-nosed teenager beat her on a deal.

* * *

Ariel had dozed during the carriage ride, and as she walked into the castle on Eric’s arm she was wishing she hadn’t. It had left her feeling groggy and far too exhausted for how early it was. If yesterday’s routine really was routine, then the schedule up on land ran a lot later than she was used to under the sea. It had been nearly eleven by the time she’d been led to her room, so it wasn’t any surprise when Sebastian told her she’d dropped off immediately.

“Are you up for supper? I don’t typically take it, but we’ve had a full day.”

She peeked up at him, slowing down her steps so he would take the hint. He did, and even turned his body to face hers and took her hands in his. It made her smile, squeezing at his hands to let him know the action was pleasant. She gave a nod, and tilted her head in a question.

“Yes, but…?” She removed one hand to point between them. “Will it be just the two of us?” She nodded, slipping her hand back into his. “I believe so, unless you saw someone else out on the beach?” He gives her a one-dimpled grin, barking out a laugh at the slap she gives his shoulder. He released her right hand with a kiss to her fingers, drawing her left into his elbow again to resume their walk. “Come on then, I’ll walk you to the bath so Carlotta can fuss over you.”

Her shoulders deflated, exaggeratedly so, but it was the most effective way for her to communicate now. She bumped a hip into his as they walked, just enough to make him give a soft, “Hey!” but nothing more. It wasn’t the bath that bothered her, but having to be dressed up. She did feel sticky, as if the heat from outside had stuck to her skin. Not to mention their dip in the lagoon had left her undergarments wet without the moisture, a sensation she wasn’t enjoying. For all that she would enjoy the bath, Ariel knew that a dress this casual was not likely going to appear for supper.

“Listen, she does it because she cares! Which is a really good thing, believe me.”

Ariel rolled her eyes, but gave him a smile.

“Having her on your side is going to make things a lot smoother.”

She tilted her head at him, but not really. She kept her gaze forward, trying to memorize their route while keeping in check to the conversation. This wouldn’t be even half as hard if she’d gotten her voice back.

“To-to, you know…” She feels his arm shift, clench, and relax in the silence, and it does all the speaking for him. The air has changed in those seconds, and losing her voice isn’t going to change her philosophy of taking things head on. Ariel stopped their walk for a second time, dropped her left hand from his elbow to circle his wrist. She put her right atop his heart, and looked up at him, making sure to keep his gaze.

Eric gave a sigh, and she can’t tell if it’s frustrated or embarrassed. She doesn’t have to worry much for his hand lifted to cover the one on his chest, and she took it as a hint to take a step closer. “I know we pretty much just met, and you’ve gone through something really, well, really traumatizing, but…” She sees how he pulls his shoulders back with his inhale, and feels proud at the confidence it gives off. “Ariel, I feel something different, something special, with you. And if you’ll let me, I’d like to court you.”

She melted.

Her grin spread without her control, her face getting warmer with it, and it takes her all to keep her knees straight. She released his wrist to cup the base of his neck, her thumb stroking the still wonderfully warm skin as soon as it lands. Ariel got up on her tiptoes, a strange sensation and yet almost instinctive in the absence of fins to push herself up, and kissed his cheek. When she pulls back, slowly landing back on her heels, she sees the same dopey expression that she feels on his face.

“Thank you.” He whispered it, and she’s filled with the urge to curl into him. It doesn’t help that he finally moved his dangling hand to rest on her hip. She took the initiative once more, and took another step closer. He’s too tall for her to comfortably kiss his lips without pushing up on his shoulders, but he’s the perfect height to lay her head under his chin. Eric ended up wrapping his arm all around her as she settled, and the squeeze his arm gives makes her shoulders drop with a sigh.

If this is her only reward, she’d be happy.

* * *

Under the sea, dinner had accomplished nothing.

Sitting alongside her sisters at their private vanities as they brushed their hair, Attina couldn’t lift the heaviness from her shoulders. They had spouted so many different things, all overlapping and not giving any of them time to even decipher it, that she’d stopped trying within seconds. Alana had been the first to give up in trying to make herself be heard, but Attina was hesitant in calling it a show of maturity. Given how concerned the mermaid was with physical appearances, she wouldn’t put it past her to now be worried about vocal strain.

Miraculously, the other four lost steam after only half an hour. The way the water kept warm around her however let Attina know that the only thing that got tired out were their voices. The frustration, the anxiety, all the bad collecting under their scales— that was still very much strong. In what she can only call blackout leadership, she’d managed to corral them all to other activities for the reminder of the night to only mild complaints.

She’d hoped Triton would make an appearance by supper, but nay. One of the servants had whispered to her that her father was back, so at least she didn’t have to worry that he was missing too. She’d kept the news to herself, willing to bet that letting her sisters know would have only resulted in them rushing their father. Letting all her hair flow out of its tight bun and crown, she gave a wince; that would have gained her a lecture about controlling her sisters, and then _she_ might’ve exploded.

Supper had ended up being a much more somber affair. Attina had successfully ignored the irritable air bubbles that Andrina’s fin kept up the entire time, even as Alana had shot her worried glances. At the end, she had sent her sisters to their room ahead of her to give herself a moment to think. All that those precious minutes had resulted in was in calling over one of the messenger seahorses to let Triton know the princesses would appreciate an update.

If he could find the time, of course. She had to remain respectful. It wouldn’t help anyone if her father thought she was making undue demands. Not that asking to know where the search for her baby sister was at should be considered an undue demand, but better safe than sorry.

Now it was just about time to turn in and still no word from their father. It almost made it seem like he was avoiding them, and the thought makes her grip her hairbrush tighter. Unbidden, the thought comes that if she were alive, their mother would have never left them in the dark for so long. It leaves a bitter taste in her mouth to think of Athena like that, and she takes it as a cue to shut off her brain already. She couldn’t let those thoughts grow, or else any chance of ever speaking amicably to her father would be null.

“Hey guys?” Arista’s soft voice breaks through her thoughts, and apparently all the other mermaids too with the wide looks they give her. “Ariel’s still alive, right?”

“Of course she is.” Aquata is uncharacteristically gentle as she swims to the blonde’s bed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “At worst, she’s kidnapped and Father will receive a ransom note soon enough. But there’s no way she’s dead.”

Alana gives a wince at the brunette’s words, a movement that thankfully only Attina caught as their sisters kept their attentions firmly on consoling Arista. She knows what the second oldest is thinking, it has to be the same thing she’s thinking. Ariel had never made it back home after Triton had left to find her, following some argument or another with Sebastian in the throne room. As the immediate heirs, they had been notified along with Triton that the last sighting of Ariel had the redhead swimming into open sea. After that notice, their father had closed them out of updates, leaving them twiddling their thumbs.

Maybe the reason he hadn’t seen them yet is because he doesn’t know how to tell them he’s found Ariel’s body.

“I bet she just got stuck in another shipwreck, and Flounder is too much of a guppy to ask us for help.” Andrina’s voice is relaxed, coaxing out the soft laughter from Arista she had obviously aimed for. Yet for all the unaffected posturing the human half of her body is showing – laying on her side with her hand propping up her cheek – her fin continues its anxious twitching.

Aquata gives a scoff and her voice is back to its firmer edge. “I don’t think Flounder will ever not be a guppy.” She keeps her arm around Arista, hand stroking the younger’s arm as the blonde settles her head into the crook of Aquata’s neck.

“Last time she got stuck, Flounder looked basically see-through when he finally came to ask me for help.” Adella’s picked up the task of cheering up Arista, and by proxy all of the sisters too. She lays on her stomach, both hands cupping her chin while she talks. Forgetting that Ariel’s been missing, this might as well just be a regular teasing session. “And you know what? Once I got there, Ariel was _sooo_ annoyed with him! She kept saying, ‘I told him to just get someone ages ago!’ and that little guy just started spluttering like a downed seagull.”

While the younger girls laugh and continue to reminisce, Attina’s face gets drawn into a frown. She wasn’t stupid, none of them were; it wasn’t a secret between the princesses that Ariel had a fascination with human artifacts. But the way they were talking, the amount of memories they were passing around, made it seem like it was… _common_ for the youngest to be searching for them. Actively searching for them, not ‘stumbling’ across them like she’d told Attina a handful of times.

Alana sees the slow change in her attitude, having kept quiet until now, and she speaks up before Attina can question the mermaids. “Either way, Arista—” She holds a rare undercurrent of severity, not enough to be a scolding but enough to fend off jokes, and the mood substantially fades. “The important thing for us to do is stay hopeful. Once more of the search parties return, we’ll get a better idea about where she’s at.”

“She’s can’t have gotten too far.” Attina gives a smile, directed at all of her sisters as calmly as possible. “After all, it’s not like she could have grown legs.”


	3. day two, pt 3

After supper found Eric in his study, looking over the papers on his desk but reading none of it. His mind was elsewhere, his foot nervously tapping the rug as he remained staring at the same paper he picked up five minutes ago. He gives a glance over to Grimsby, seated across the desk with a book in his hands. His pipe is steadily firing away, and Eric’s foot ends up tapping in time to his puffs instead of the stuttering pace of his heart.

“Spit it out already, Your Highness. Before I run out of tobacco.”

Eric laughed, straightening his papers and resting his chin on his hand. He waits until Grimsby puts his book down to grin widely, both dimples showing brightly. “I’m going to court her, Grims. I asked her, and she accepted.”

“Of course she’s going to accept, she’s mute, not dim.”

“She could have said no! What if she had a husband waiting for her, or a fiancé?”

“Eric—” Formalities thrown aside, it shut up the prince. “What is really worrying you? Wedding rings don’t come off in the sea, and she’s clearly been smitten with you since you found her.”

He chewed on his bottom lip, directing his gaze back down to his gaze. He fingers through the papers, thankful that Grimsby is allowing the silence, and pulled out a heavily embellished sheet. He flattened it atop the pile and took a deep breath. “Father and Mother, they arrive within the fortnight. And… I don’t know if they’ll be as supportive as you. Unless it turns out she’s some Duke’s daughter, I just, I don’t-I don’t know.”

“Well, you have sent out the missives to the ports, correct?”

“Yes, this morning, before we left to the village. I mean, she doesn’t hold herself like a commoner, but, well, she could just be a knight’s daughter. And that’s…” He trailed off, head nodding to the side in an attempt to finish the thought nonverbally.

“Queen Flaviana would be more than vocal if all Ariel’s family has to show is dedication to the crown.”

“If it’s even our crown.”

“Hmm, quite right. Your father might be more agreeable if she’s from another kingdom, so long as there’s at least a knighthood involved.”

“What if, if, if she’s just a merchant’s daughter?”

“Does that matter to you?”

“No!” All his nervous energy is gathering in his arms and shoulders, his upper body tight even as he gave a fleeting slam to the desk. Grimsby, observant and knowing of the prince’s behaviors, doesn’t flinch and simply took the respite as a chance to refill his pipe. Eric ran a hand through his hair, his still boyish features stern in frustration. “I don’t care where she’s from or any of that other stuff, you know that Grimsby. But the lower the rung on the ladder, the harder it’s going to be for us. For her.”

* * *

It took a few more minutes – an hour’s worth of minutes precisely – to get the princesses settled for the evening. Alana noticed the way that Attina’s eyes kept getting distant, a look familiar on their father’s face before he would withdraw in more ways than one. She knew that the sooner their younger sisters went to sleep, or at least stopped throwing around reminders of Ariel’s previously unknown adventures, the better their evening would end.

Conversation had changed half an hour ago, and Attina had even laughed at a childhood memory. Alana felt her own anxiety, unrelated to Ariel’s status and solely about her older sister, ease considerably as they all got under the covers. Looking to her right, she shared a smile with her older sister and relaxed her body into the bed.

“What if Ariel did grow legs?”

Alana groaned, loud and annoyed, unable to hold it in. “Arista, go to sleep!”

“Alana,” the blonde whined, making Alana feel as if she were hovering right above her. She wouldn’t put it past her. “What if she did though?”

“Then we’ll figure that out later!”

The mermaid whimpered, and it finally made Alana sit up in bed, turning directly to her left to glare right at her. Surprisingly, the other princesses were quiet, and Alana didn’t want to assume they were all asleep already. They were either waiting to see how the normally-flippant elder sister handled the situation or they were too scared of having Attina snap at them or or or…

“You won’t sleep until we talk about this, will you?” A shake is her answer, to which Alana rolls her eyes. “Who else is still awake thanks to Arista?” There’s a chorus of agreement from the other row. She looked to her right, confidence wavering at seeing Attina not only sat up, but also putting her hair back in a bun.

“Alright, let’s work through this. How would Ariel grow legs?”

“Magic.” Arista’s answer is quick, showing far too much thought into this.

Attina gives a sigh, moves to sit beside Alana on her bed. It cues Aquata to move to Arista’s bed, and for Andrina to join Adella on hers. They are perfectly paired off, a comfortable rectangle of four beds, their proximity helps Alana keep her voice lowered. She can feel a pulse in the back of her neck as her younger sisters keep their eyes on her. It’s a testament to her love that she’s sacrificing so much sleep.

“Sure, magic gets Ariel to grow her legs. Where in the sea would she get magic like that?”

Arista bites at her bottom lip and shrugs. Aquata is also quiet, sleepily leaning against her younger sister as she shakes her head. Adella’s giving pointless hums of thought, finger pressed to her chin, and Andrina’s expression is completely unreadable.

Getting no answer, Alana claps her hands. “Great! There’s no way for—”

“Could Daddy do it?”

Alana sputters at Adella, giving a completely unconvincing, “No--?”

Just like that, her sisters look at Attina. Who gives a smooth, “Yes, but none of you are supposed to know that.” Her head has shifted to rest on Alana’s shoulder and it hasn’t moved, so she’s obviously still trusting Alana to lead.

“Ohhh, that means you could do it one day, Attina!” Adella’s face has perked up. “Or can you already do it? Is it something we could all do or is—”

“It’s the trident.” Alana cuts her off, wanting to close that before it swims away from her control. “And the trident can only be controlled by the current and rightful ruler of Atlantica, so technically, it could be any of us.” Adella grumbles, arms crossing as she recognizes that her tangent has been stopped. “But what’s _really_ important right now is that while Father _could_ , he wouldn’t, so. Forget that.”

Another silence. Alana can hear Attina’s breathing start to even out, and she’s hoping any further conversation on the topic will at least happen once the heir starts snoring. Then she’d be more than happy to entertain all their crazy thoughts. She shifts her shoulder, letting the brunette snuggle closer, and she’s opening her mouth to close their talks when she’s interrupted again.

“Other merpeople use magic in Atlantica.” Andrina’s voice is enough to rouse Attina back to life, head still laying down but fin swishing. “In other seas they do it more, like the Island Seas. Or the Arabian Sea. It’s not as taboo as Great-grandfather made it here ages ago.”

“Are you suggesting— I don’t even know what you’re suggesting. It’s at least a two week journey to get to the Island Seas!”

“Okay.” The dirty blonde shrugged. “There’s still other merpeople here.”

“Who else possibly uses magic that _Ariel_ would know of? It’s so taboo it’s basically against the law. Maybe like, a good two day’s journey out, _maybe_ you’ll find some hedge witches, but that’s such a big maybe. And they’re basically rural physicians out there, so—”

“The Sea Witch.”

That sparks up Attina, even as the rest of the princesses have been shocked silent. “That’s enough, Andrina.” She’s sitting up, green eyes so firm it’s like looking right at their father. “That’s not a merperson, it’s a monster. And we won’t waste any more energy thinking on it.”

“She was on Great-grandfather’s council.”

“Enough.”

“He banished her, but everyone knows she’s still in our borders.”

“Andrina, come on.” It’s Aquata this time, multitasking as she hugs Arista by the shoulders and glares daggers at the youngest mermaid. “You heard Attina.”

“Ariel was swimming out to who knows where two nights ago, and you seriously don’t want to consider the Sea Witch?”

“How do you know that?” Attina’s voice is a whip, as sharp as her movement to stand. She’s not towering over them, not emotionally with the way she’s crossed her arms tightly. Alana is tempted to tug her down, even out the ground, but she’s too slow in coming to a decision.

“Because I spied on you, and Alana, and Daddy, too!” Andrina shoots up to stand too, and Adella proves quicker than expected. She manages to grip her sister’s arm, pulling her back down with a flurry of air bubbles. “You two go off with Daddy and five lieutenants into a room, and you seriously think I was just going to trust that you would tell us what happened? You’ve been lying to us!”

“No! I haven’t lied, and you can’t just eavesdrop like that!”

“You knew where Ariel was last seen! You knew and you told us that Daddy hasn’t said anything!”

“He hasn’t!” Attina’s hands are clearly digging in her skin, channeling the anger she was clearly trying to stop from throwing at the seventeen year old. “He hasn’t told us _anything_ , Andrina.”

She scoffs, tugging her arm out of Adella’s hold to petulantly cross her arms. “Yeah, sure. Like I should believe you.”

Alana finally stands, a calmer and smoother motion than what either sister had done. There’s hurt in her big sister’s face, a sign to how tired the eldest is that she doesn’t even try to mask it. “He didn’t tell us. It was Lieutenant Gaiana, she’s the one that led the report.” She pries Attina’s hands off her arms, smoothing down her arms before gently holding to her fingertips. She waits for her to nod before turning back to the rest of the princesses, who had shockingly remained quiet in the short interlude. “That’s the only report we’ve heard. Father removed us from the notification list after that. The only thing he’s actually told us is the same he told all of us: they’re looking for her.”

Andrina rolls her eyes, swimming to her bed with more force than needed. “Sure. Way to be a politician, Alana. Whatever.”

Alana shares a look with Aquata, who simply nods in understanding before taking charge of the room. Attina is still standing stiff, but her hands are loose at her sides so she takes it as a win. She grabs her hand and pulls them out of the room, murmuring, “Come on, lets go for a walk.”

* * *

Inside her room, Ariel waited until the maid that assisted her would be out of the hall, and then opened the door again. Ever since she’d gotten her bath, she’d been devoid of pockets, forcing Sebastian to stay inside her casual dress. Which meant he had been taken to the washing room, which meant…

She squinted into the shadows. She had found out this downside of becoming human the moment it got dark. Gone was her ability to see more than sufficiently in dim or nonexistent light. She had quickly learned the reason why the surface always had their coasts shining at night. But she couldn’t light anything right now, and so leaving her struggling to see the crab through the carpet.

She glanced at the clock. 10:35. Roughly like last night when everything had finished. Sebastian had found his way back without too much hassle, for all his ranting, and she’d expected the same tonight. She took a deep breath to calm herself, leaving the door open as she sat on the bed.

On the nightstand was a journal, hers now. During dinner yesterday she’d asked for something to write with. It hadn’t taken long for the needed materials to appear, and with it being able to answer more complicated questions. She’d used it again during breakfast, and would’ve taken it with her to the village had Eric not insisted in leaving it. It ended up being the right choice, as she thinks back to all they did. She’s sure there wouldn’t have been a way she’d be so carefree if she’d had it.

A look back to the clock. 10:37.

She reviews her memories of the day. Remembering how nice it had been to be held by Eric, as momentary as the affection had been, her shoulders relax and she feels her body sink. A different sensation from sinking in the water, the mattress proving to be more malleable than free water tended to be. It also makes the lull of sleep draw closer.

With nothing else to do, she watches the clock hands. It makes her sleepier, the only explanation for why the appearance of Sebastian makes her jolt. The crab bounced away, glaring and not caring about the sheepish smile she gave him. She peeks at the clock as she closes the door and sits back.

10:59. She’ll spare him the lecture, even as he won’t spare her.

It’s a familiarity she allows, propping her chin on her hand. She won’t tell him, but she’s been feeling the tug of homesickness ever since Eric had taken her to the lagoon. If Eric had been a merman, she knows at least three of her sisters would have teased her before the outing. She knows all of them would have been eagerly awaiting her return, pestering with questions until Alana made them give her space before taking the reins on the interrogation.

She misses them.

Ariel misses them so much, that Sebastian’s lecture isn’t even the tiniest annoying. It makes her smile, thinking that Attina would have given her a lecture too. And Ariel would have been annoyed at that, huffing and pouting at what was only concern and love from her eldest sister. There’s now a whole scenario playing in her mind, and it hurts a little to realize how terribly alone she’s been these couple of days.

She realizes that the room is quiet, probably a little too late by the way Sebastian is looking at her. Another look at the clock, and she sighs as she lets herself fall back on the bed and claw her way into the covers. It’s 11:15. She doesn’t want to even guess at how long Sebastian had been waiting for a reaction from her.

“Girl, you didn’t hear a single thing I said, did you?”

She shakes her head.

“Thought so. Fine. Rest up, I’ll be waking you up early to say it again.”

She rolls over, grinning into the pillow at the crab’s squeak.

“Trying to kill me won’t help! You’ve got to listen to what I say eventually! You hear me?”

She peeks one eye open, glaring at the crab holding himself up. She pats his head twice, none too gently before quickly falling asleep.


	4. day three, pt 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> now with footnotes! please bear with my cringy worldbuilding xoxo

The night was not gentle to him. How could it, when he couldn’t control his emotions while he slept; the water only responded as needed. It was another night in a long list where he wished his bed wasn’t so solitary. Athena had been his rock, and he knows that she would have taken over whatever he had to drop. He’d get a lecture over it at the end, and if he was stubborn and in his head enough over it, it might have turned into a real argument.

But they would make up. Being at odds wasn’t a state either of them enjoyed.

Sitting himself at the head in the dining table, he sighs at the empty seats before him. He knows what he’s dropped now is the same thing he had dropped many other times. He hadn’t seen his daughters in nearly two days, and his excuses were starting to sound flimsy even to himself. He’d almost decided to skip breakfast, but that would have been too far. At least Attina knew he’d returned last night, if she hadn’t told her sisters, and to disappear so early in the day might be pushing the princess too far.

As the food is being served, his daughters swim in. There is a mix of emotions on all of their faces, but they all give their always polite, if murmured greetings as they seat themselves. Attina and Alana sit at his right and left, respectively, as always. He sees them exchange a look as they straightened their backs, and it makes him quirk an eyebrow at them. They give a slight shake of their heads, and he accepts it for now.

For a moment, the only sound is the water shifting as they eat. He has to pace himself, tempting as it was to swallow his meal whole and depart, to avoid having to give explanations. Strategically, he knows he would also get an advantage if he starts the conversation. The words to begin have continuously been lost to him since the search began.

“Father,” Attina’s voice holds its usual confidence, even if her eyes don’t, and he knows what she’s going to say, “we were hoping to get an update on the search.”

“Sadly, we haven’t found anything yet.” All of their faces drop, and his two eldest share that same look again. It clicks to him that they’re still thinking over the only real piece of news they received. “We went out towards the Tyrrhenian Sea—”

“Towards?” Aquata’s interruption makes Alana elbow the mermaid sitting at her right. “Did you pass the Strait of Messina? Or were you going around the Mediterranean Sea?”

“We did not pass the Strait, but we were going in that direction.”

Aquata’s eyes have a glint in them similar to that of his generals in strategy meetings. Any other time it would have made him proud. Right now, it makes him suspicious. “Why would—”

“Aquata.” It’s Attina that cuts her off. “Please.”

“It’s alright. Let her finish.”

That makes the mermaid lift her chin. He does feel a drop of pride sneak its way in. “Why would you choose that direction? There’s a higher population towards the Mediterranean Sea, not to mention their Dukes would be more familiar with Ariel. On top of that, the Strait has been going through so much unrest the past five years that Ariel would be a fool to go there.”

“You are correct, in all facets.” She bows her head at his compliment. “But it is those same reasons why we went that way.” He pushes his plate to the side, resting his forearms on the table in the same motion. His opens his hands towards his daughter, hoping this won’t turn into an argument. “If Ariel had gone to the Mediterranean, then reason stands that we would have already heard from her, or at least of her. The Strait, while not as stable as we would like, does also provide her with more anonymity if she’s really taking this runaway to heart.”

Aquata’s face still looks unconvinced, but she nods after looking at her oldest sister. “Of course, Father. I apologize for being short-sighted.”

“It’s alright, Aquata. I appreciate your insight.” Andrina gives a shallow huff of a laugh at that, and he chooses to ignore it. “We hadn’t found anything by the time we decided to return. I did send out two parties, led by Lieutenants Eiran and Liora, farther out towards the Balearic Sea. If they had quick passage, we might hear from them as early as this evening.”

Alana clears her throat, waiting for him to turn towards her before she speaks. “Is there any plan to go out east? To the Aegean Sea?”

Adella jumps in before he can respond. “Mom’s family might be able to assist. Uncle Kleon still has lordship in the Mirotoan Sea, and Ariel _is_ his niece. I see no reason why he wouldn’t help.”

“Girls, the Mirotoan Sea is essentially rural,” he moves his hands palms up, the closest to a shrug they’ll be getting while at the table, “To get close to any metropolis there is a four day trip. And if she were headed that way, _since_ Kleon is in power, I doubt she would be able to sneak around him. If I were to send out a party, they wouldn’t catch her before she arrives.”

“So, you’re choosing to _wait_.”

“No, Andrina, I’m choosing to _trust_ that Kleon will send Ariel back if she did go there.” He moves to stand, his daughters all following even as they share looks he’ll never be able to uncode. “And I’m asking all of you to trust me that I’m making the best choices.”

“Yes, Father.”

* * *

Eric was prepping himself for a dull as rocks day.

He’d told Ariel last night that it wasn’t likely they’d be able to spend time together until dinner. He had significant paperwork to review, work that he’d been putting aside since arriving in the coastal castle a handful of weeks ago. It wasn’t that he was negligent of his duties, far from it. But the end of the season meant, the end of the season, until he became a proper ruler. Until then, the coast was to still be his guaranteed vacation, filled of day long sails and having the sun kiss his skin until his mother exploded.

But this year, he’d been tricked (he would stand by this choice of words for the foreseeable future) into going up north. He’d been prodded and poked until his path had finally crossed the mountainous kingdom of Glowerhaven. Grimsby had been no help, reminding him that he still owed a call to the Princess. Which wouldn’t have been a problem if he hadn’t been painfully aware that his parents were trying to seal agreements with a marriage announcement between them. He’d feigned sickness, blaming the thin mountain air, and had gotten a prim letter of well wishes from the royal family.

It was a foolproof plan. Except that Baron Nojus had heard he was in town, pushed his way past Grimsby in a truly socially atrocious manner, and egged Eric out on town. The man was only older by a couple of years, and always such a high spirit to spend time with. Besides, he was right—it would have been a waste to be in the lively city of Bludenz and not even pass through their gentlemen’s club.

“The only way to fix that mountain ache is by embracing it!”

He should have said he had the flu. Then there wouldn’t have been any way for him to get visitors that, maybe, after all, don’t have his best interests in mind. There definitely wouldn’t have been a way that his and the Princess’s paths would have crossed when heading to the club. He wouldn’t have spent the afternoon so tightly wound that it had taken three drinks of scotch to let him enjoy the conversation. He also would not have ended up getting sent to the coast with enough paperwork to fit three suitcases.

Preventive measures, his mother had said.

Thus culminating in having to spend today, and a number of other days ahead of him, in his study instead of learning more about Ariel. Ariel with her big blue eyes and ready-to-go grin. Ariel who seemed just as happy to run around the village as she did listening to him talk over dinner. Not for the first time, he wondered if she had always been a mute. Sometimes her hands moved with such excitement that he’s expecting her to speak. He would be lying to say he doesn’t still feel a twinge of disappointment every time quiet is the answer she gives.

The kingdom of Bisignano had a fairly robust educational system, even for those of the lower gentry. His father had made great strides in changing the expectations of a well-learned woman, funding three public academies strategically placed to facilitate their education. His mother hadn’t been the most welcoming of the changes, stating that it would fill the public with too many ideals. It had been a losing battle for her, as Eric supported his father, joining the growing thought that an educated kingdom calls for a united kingdom.

Ariel was clearly educated, that much was clear by her ease at both Italian and the constant English switches that Grimsby subjected them to. Her penmanship was immaculate, if fanciful when excitement pushed through. They had yet to talk deeply on matters such as literature or politics, but he hoped she would be able to at least maintain the same interest she had when speaking of dance or food. By her age, if she was from this kingdom, then she would have only been ten when the first academy opened, giving her family ample chance to expand her education. If she wasn’t from Bisignano, there might be a much larger gap than he would like in a wife, but he would never call it a lost cause.

Of course, that would mean all the ports report back to him. Or, better, that she would remember where she’s from. Preferably before his parents arrive and take all the control out of his hands. For all the legislation they make him draft and review, they were quick to give and take real power as their whims fit. At eighteen, he was expected to take a wife or at least have shown preference for one of the ladies of court. He had suspicions he wouldn’t be able to hold any real weight against them until he was married, and that wasn’t a thought he enjoyed. He didn’t _want_ to take a wife just to satisfy his parents, or to use their union as part of the power play that was being royal.

He wanted a wife that had her own goals, that would have a code of morals and ethics uninfluenced by the fashions of the capital. He wanted a wife that would trust his actions and also demand he explain them. He wanted a wife that he could trust, not to live his life in fear that her affections could turn with the wrong hand. He wanted love.

As inexplicable as it was, he felt that Ariel could give him that.

* * *

The day was half over, and Ursula had learned little more than guard schedules. Her babies had found a few spots over the gardens and near the upper level conference rooms that let sound travel magnificently, but it wasn’t enough. Words were only stepping stones, the real upper hand came in body language.

The tightness of a jaw, the relaxation of a brow, the twitch of a fin. It all could tell a story different from what the mouth gave, and that’s what made her trade. Even with her latest mark, she wouldn’t have taken the jump without seeing the love in the princesses’ face. She was a princess, after all, young and beautiful— the awe in her voice might have also been appropriate for a new set of flowers.

Perhaps she should have taken an extra precaution, run a spell through the human. True love was often actually adoration, even idolization, and made for an easy clause that was rarely filled. Even with all signs pointing it was love, just sprouting and scared but still love, from Ariel, if it was one-sided then Ursula would still be winner. She had gotten over-confident, even desperate; she can admit that now. The Ursula of a hundred years ago would have been more thorough before striking such a deal.

Now, she was stuck with a contract not filled in her favor, a worthless amulet simply swirling with Ariel’s voice, and a royal family on high alert. Where just a couple days she had been delighting at the bond the royal family of this generation held, it was now making her want to cut off a few tentacles. King Chayyim would have never given so much concern to a missing child, not one with a spirit like Ariel’s. King Ira and his equally as calculating Queen Rhodopis would have had her coupled and in another sea long before Ursula could get any ideas.

Those bastards.

Lucky for her, so long as she kept her cool, there were still six other princesses to use. Five actually, for it would take a declaration of war from the humans for Attina to go against her father’s orders. Or…

She could pick them off. And the heir could be her real key to squashing Triton like the snail he was.

* * *

Ariel had discovered reticules. A delightful way that humans referred to their cloth pouches, but she wouldn’t fight it. They were certainly better designed, of an array of textures and stitching, making the change in name seem fitting. Maybe if the ones in Atlantica looked nearly half as cheerful they would be more popular outside of one’s home.

Carlotta had tried to convince her to leave it in the room, stressing that while she was residing in the castle there was no need to take such a silly thing along. Ariel had learned that it took only a few turns of her head for the housekeeper to fall into rants, particularly useful in gaining explanations for human habits without opening herself to more suspicions.

“I’m sure that your mother—well maybe not—but definitely your _grand_ mother would agree that those _ridicules_ **[[1](%E2%80%9C#note1%E2%80%9D)]** are not as seemingly as your peers like to pretend. In my opinion, a ladies belongings should remain a mystery, kept in pockets as intended. It is for men to flaunt around in such a way. And it would do you well to know that Queen Flaviana and her court share that thought.”

It had answered nothing at all. Still, Ariel smiled demurely and nodded, just like when they had to host senator dinners and Adella pushed her into staying the whole night. She wasn’t going to fight the housekeeper, but she wasn’t going to leave it back either. Having one made the action of sneaking Sebastian around _much_ smoother.

It quickly turned out that she didn’t need one for much of the day. The afternoon had been filled with human women having her try on gowns, measuring her repeatedly, and even sticking needles in the cloth she actively wore. Dressmakers, Carlotta had called them, and had even referred to them without title. Seeing as these women had used ‘Mrs. Di Caprio’ in return, it didn’t take much for Ariel to deduce they were commoners of just barely better footing than those in the village. Their dresses were of smoother cloth, although no where close to what she’d been parading around, and she had quickly picked up that humans invested high importance in their cloth.

It wasn’t until well after luncheon that Ariel was given a free schedule. She’d been quick to grab her reticule, stuffed with journal, pen, and crab, and eventually poked her way to the library. The smell of so much parchment, so human in the way it surrounded every corner of the room, lifted her spirits. It was only her third day, but there seemed to be no shortage of discoveries. Making her way, she dropped her reticule on the couch. Muffled shouts continued from behind her, and she smiled at the way the struggle against cloth echoed.

He would find a way soon. It’s not like she’s even drawn the strings tight.

She wandered the shelves, picking up books as their titles intrigued her until her arms could hold no more. She made two trips to the couch, neat stacks swiftly appearing as her curiosity found ample food. Hands on her hips and face feeling pleasantly flushed, she looked upon her discoveries with glee. Sebastian looked at the stacks, then back at her, and she huffed at how completely disillusioned he looked.

“What is the point in reading these? You should be thinkin’ ‘bout gettin’ your voice back!”

Ariel waved a hand, plopping herself on the couch with enough force to send Sebastian bouncing. She had known what the price was for her legs, it’s not as if it had been stolen without consent. There had been hope that perhaps, by some twist of magic, she would get it back with the kiss. But, that had been only hope. She could make do with not just ‘body language’, as Ursula had so grotesquely implied, but also with the written word. A benefit of being a princess of a kingdom as vast as Atlantica had given her many tongues to learn, and thankfully Eric seemed to be as fluent as her.

Still, even with that to her benefit, she had to try to familiarize herself with where she was. Hydorgraphia **[[2](%E2%80%9C#note2%E2%80%9D)]** wasn’t her best subject, not when going beyond the Larger Northern Atlantica and even then she often had to look to her sisters for help. That was Aquata’s niche, her memory primed to know as far as the General Pacifica better than Attina. But, she’s sure that for all of her learnings, even Aquata would be as lost as she was on the surface.

They did have records of human kingdoms, but they were terribly outdated. It had been long before even her Great-grandfather’s rule that they had been properly updated. Merpeople had gone into hiding generations before, a result of human activity and greed for knowledge tilting the balance of their interactions too far in the human’s favor. There _were_ merfolk that occasionally interacted with humans in special convoys, but sent to _only_ maintain their linguistic knowledge. Even Triton still agreed that such a dangerous endeavor was worthwhile to make sure humans could never communicate without merpeople being aware.

Maybe if her father had granted her at least that duty, she would have been happy under the sea.

Her neat stack was now split across the floor, by as best as she could decipher their topics. Most of the literature appeared to be in Italian, and then a few in French **[[3](%E2%80%9C#note3%E2%80%9D)]**. She would have to ask if—no, not ask. She had to _observe_ and see if in this kingdom there were any other languages spoken. Grimsby spoke English with the same intonation as senators from Celtic Sea, yet any books in English had been glaringly absent from her search.

Sebastian was flipping through one of the books, seeming to have accepted that she wasn’t going to listen to any lectures. She pulled out her journal, flipping to the back, and wrote in their native tongue. Not that Sebastian didn’t understand some human languages, but there would be no reason to subject the old crab to that discomfort in private. She propped the journal open in front of his spot on the floor, started to flip through an Italian book, and waited.

‘Have you heard any specific information about this kingdom? As in, where we are on the surface? I’d rather not have to ask outright.’

The crab clicked his claws in thought, and began to pace. “Goin’ from our maps in the castle, I can tell you where we are _not_.” She levels a look at him. He ignores her, or might actually just be too caught up in his thoughts to notice. “The Land of Cathay **[[4](%E2%80%9C#note4%E2%80%9D)]** we know is in Pacifica, and we most certainly did not cross over. In fact, even with how fast you mermaids swim, I don’t think we’ve gone farther than the Aegean or the Balearic Sea. That rules out anything past the Lands of Achaia or Cyrenaica **[[5](%E2%80%9C#note5%E2%80%9D)]**. If you think back to your studies from the last year—”

She felt like she was back in school. She really should have known better than to ask Sebastian. Even if he was her only confidant at the moment. As much as she enjoyed Scuttle’s company, already he had proven to certainly not be a reliable source about humans. To go to him for assistance with their kingdom locations might be the dumbest move.

Letting Sebastian continue his monologue, she set aside the first book. It had turned out to be full of rhymes, and while it would be enjoyable in the evening, it’s not what she was looking for right now. She bit at her lip. Humans likely didn’t call it hydorgraphia, being on land. Merpeople called gēographia the study of their own ridges and volcanos, so perhaps…

A-ha! There it was, a thick volume at the bottom of her now disorganized piles. The ink was held tight, tighter than what came out of her fountain pen (so much better than squid pens!), and she carefully turned it over in awe. The books she collected were almost never so legible, their pages much more fragile than their sea parchment so she had to ration out her time with them before they crumbled. This _Études Géographiques de l’Europe Continentale_ **[[6](%E2%80%9C#note6%E2%80%9D)]** felt as sturdy as the books of her home, and just as legible. 

“Ariel, did you hear me?”

She shook her head. She smiled while doing so and waved the book from her position on the couch.

“Oh! You found a map, I suppose?”

She nodded, and then shrugged. She hoped it was a map, somewhere within the many pages. The crab scoffed and made his way to her shoulder. Once he was settled, she opened the book and read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FOOTNOTES:
> 
> 1 When reticules, or purses as we know them, first came into fashion in the 1800s, they were also a point of mockery. By the 1810s, those against them called them 'ridicules'. 
> 
> 2 Combo of Greek _'hydor'_ meaning water and _'graphia'_. I'm not very creative, but I try. 
> 
> 3 If you haven't noticed, which I don't blame you, this story is set in the 1810s, to be exact 1813 because the fashion of the 1810s is cute and 3 is my lucky number. During this time, the lingua franca for political / widespread academic matters was not English, but French. I've set Eric's kingdom, the Kingdom of Bisignano, in a psuedo-Southern Italy area, with Italian their official language.
> 
> 4 The merpeople have old as hell maps of the surface. I'm pulling inspo from the Ptolemy world map from the c.150, plus mainly the Catalan Atlas c.1375, and other old-old-old maps. _Cathay_ was used to refer to what we know as China.
> 
> 5 In the Roman Empire c.117-138, Cyrenaica referred to what is now the northern coast of Libya, roughly.
> 
> 6 Google translate French of 'Geographical Studies of Continental Europe,' meaning this is likely not a real book.


	5. day three, pt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> filler chapter / character study dump. i just love fleshing out characters and don’t know how to do plot lines. sorry to say there might be lots of this in the future

“Ugh, I don’t get it!”

The little mermaid had an array of books on her bed, and quite a few crumbled parchment sheets thrown around. There were no less than three empty squid pens hidden in her bedsheets, and the one currently stuck in her red hair was well past its halfway point. Her temper and patience had also reached empty, cheeks flushed and eyes shining with held back tears.

No one came to her rescue, however. This was one of the rare moments where the bedchambers were empty, not even one of her older sisters arranging their hair at the vanities. Originally, Ariel had rejoiced at this discovery. Two hours ago, the last thing she wanted was for any of her sisters to catch her working so hard. It would go only one of two ways: a teasing or a scolding. She wasn’t in the mood for either of those. Right now, having someone else to talk to didn’t seem so bad.

She rubbed the heels of her hands against her eyes and let out another low scream of frustration. The ten year old despised learning, no matter how much the professors and tutors insisted it was important. She didn’t even have a favorite subject, and that’s only because the surface world wasn’t considered a subject. At least, not until she left for one of the universities in the Celtic Sea, or better yet somewhere in the Southern Atlantica Region. Even then, she’d have to sneak the whole way in because if Father found out, he might as well nail her fin to this castle.

That meant that she wouldn’t be able to use her royal status to get accepted. She would have to actually put in effort, stand out on her own achievements. She had to make sure she ended up being so amazing that even Alana, no _Attina_ , would be amazed and support her adventure across the sea. No more being the baby and begging Aquata for help, or asking Adella to pretty please read her textbooks to her. She was going to do this all on her own, just pure focus and dedication and—

Her squid pen burst. A thick film of ink quickly spread around the chamber, with no hope of being removed without notice. She would have to get the maids to wash all the sheets, and then also scrub the clam beds. _Ohhh_ , she’d have to help them, or do it herself! Or else everyone would notice she’d messed up, again!

“Ariel, are you up here?”

“Uh! Hold on!”

Ariel scrambled to at least hide the textbooks. It was a worthy endeavor given that the squid ink still hadn’t dissipated. At least it hadn’t kept spreading to the vanities, or else they would have to simply buy new mirrors. Alana hated streaks on her mirror and squid ink was so bothersome.

“What are you up to this time?”

The princess successfully hid the most incriminating books – math, and math, and math – in the sides of her bed. At least now it was just her linguistics books, two volumes of _Aqualincq to French_ , left on the bed. Those would bring out the least questions. She’d figure out what to say about the ink later.

“Where did all this ink come from!”

She’d say something now. No time like the present. Swimming out of the cloud, Ariel gave a toothy grin to Adella. She even clasped her hands behind her back and hunched her shoulders when her big sister didn’t uncross her arms. “If it helps, this is only the first pen to burst.”

Adella gave a little shocked scoff, teal eyes getting wider as this information obviously didn’t help.

“Okay, so it looks really bad, but it’s still floating! I was just about to y’know, bundle it all up before it really stuck to anything, and then it would be like super easy to just scrub out the sheets.” She gave a nervous giggle when her sister still didn’t say anything. “I doubt any of the clams even got any ink, I mean, pssh,” she waved a hand, “these pens are pretty lousy, the ink can’t be _that_ heavy, right?”

“Ariel!” The brunette whined, hands closing around the water in front of her in anger. “What! Are you doing! Breaking! Pens!” Ariel opened her mouth, but Adella kept going. “You are _sooo_ lucky I’m the one that came to get you. We’ve been looking for you everywhere! And I said, ‘Hey guys, don’t worry, I’ll go check if our urchin of a sister is in bed, I’m sure she’s just sleeping.’ Wrong! I was so wrong! You’ve inked our room!”

In her rant, Adella had started swimming circles around the ink. Rather than try to stop her, Ariel started to swim circles the opposite direction. Her vent lasted long enough that the ink gathered into a ball tight enough for Ariel to put her arms around. She grabbed her big sister and positioned her closer around the ball so that her circles would keep it in place while Ariel got something to soak it up. Thankfully, once Adella got into these moods, it was near impossible to get her to stop. Half the time Aquata had to throw a spongeball at her face, which would coincidentally be perfect to soak ink but not perfect for avoiding that sister’s ire.

The next best thing would be her sheets. Before she could change her mind, she moved quickly. The ink smoothly sank into the sheets and within seconds the water was clear. With a sigh, she moved more calmly and stuffed the sheets into an empty cloth pouch and drew the string tight.

“You know that won’t hold it forever.”

“Duh, Adella. I’m gonna take it to the laundry room, and leave it to the experts.”

Adella rolled her eyes. She swam next to Ariel and poked her forehead harshly. “They wouldn’t be experts if it weren’t for your eel-fingers.” The redhead rubbed at the spot with a frown. “Do you want me to come with you?”

 _Yes_. “No, it’s okay. I can find the way.”

“How about I come so you can talk French to me?”

Ariel felt her entire body seize up. Cloth pouch now clutched in her fingers, she tried to think of a way out of this. She knew there would be a chance Adella would read the covers. She’d simply gotten confident she’d be too enveloped in her mood to notice anything else. If she tried to backswim then this would definitely turn into a merciless teasing, maybe even one that would include Aquata later.

“Uhm. Sure. If you could do it slowly?” The last word was a mutter, eyes downcast and afraid to find Adella looking smug.

Surprisingly, her sister sounded… caring? Sweet? _Understanding?_ “I’ll talk as slow as you need. You might be an urchin, Ariel, but that won’t stop me from helping you.” She finally looked up when Adella put her arm around her shoulders, giving her a hug that bordered a choke. Ariel gave a laugh, finally relaxing, when a sloppy kiss was pressed to the top of her head.

* * *

The grandfather clock in the library let its chimes ring out four times. Its echoes were quickly hushed by plush carpets and full bookshelves, but its loud repetition is enough to rouse Ariel awake. Blearily, blue eyes opened to darkness, and after a confused pause, the opened book is removed from her face. She very nearly flings it to the floor, wrist already turning in practiced movement, when the weight of the book registers and draws it back to her chest. Her lips form a silent curse as she collects her thoughts and realizes she is _not_ in _her_ castle bedchambers as her dreams had tricked her into believing.

Ariel straightens on the couch, having laid down during her reading, and looks around the floor. Sebastian is nowhere to be seen, her reticule holding only the shape of her journal. Worry bites at her lip shortly, but she catches the shine of candlelight and relaxes. A servant surely entered while she slept to light the library, and he must have left in the opening. She rolls her shoulders and shakes her head, and lets an easy smile find its way as she reassures herself that the old crab was surely safe.

She decides to work swiftly. If candles have already been lit within the castle then dinner might not be too far out. She takes out her journal and begins to write down the book titles as well as where her reading had taken her, and then begins to put stack them neatly on the table. There was no chance she could recall where they all went, but she trusted someone else would, just like in her home. That work done, she stood and arranged her skirts, a motion she was learning to enjoy, and with reticule hanging from her wrist, she exited the library.

Out in the hallway, she pauses. Where she had thought the chance to explore unchaperoned would excite her, she found childish apprehension hunching her shoulders. In all its familiar royal splendor, the castle was still human in every aspect of its design, and most hauntingly of all, it was very much alive. This was no shipwreck where the only dangers would be sharks or eels; the dangers here felt even more fatal for how much more hung in its hold. She couldn’t misspeak, but she hadn’t missed the wary eyes of some of the servants and knew her movements were being watched more carefully than she was used to. There would be no sister to help smooth over her embarrassment, not even a friendly face from her charity work to ease her nerves.

 _You won’t be a guppy forever, Ariel._ Unbidden, Adella’s gentle voice is brought up with disconnected reminders of long-ago late talks in moonlight. _We will always support you best we can, but one day you’ll have to swim out on your own_. Ariel closes her eyes, willing away the burn of tears as she yearns for her sister’s sweet hugs. _You’ve got a smart mind and fierce heart, just make sure to use them in that order_. She takes in a shaking breath, straightening her shoulders on the exhale.

They might not be with her, but she wouldn’t let the foreignism of the surface make a mockery of all they’d taught her. Her sisters were giants in her eyes, even Andrina for all her carefree nature swam through their father’s expectations with a facility that always escaped Ariel. On land, she had the opportunity to take the best of them and forge a new path for herself. She would learn all she could of this kingdom of Bisignano, and the lands beyond, until her questions couldn’t be answered in books. And then she would do what was explicitly hers alone and find the answers herself.

* * *

Just as the sun is beginning to dip in the horizon, King Triton excused himself from his castle. He directed that any parties that return in his absence wait for him in the conference room. Almost as an afterthought, he stated that unless for reasons of extreme duress, his daughters were not to be notified he was out. He offered no other direction or explanation for his leave.

It was a relatively short swim, but this wasn’t that part that he expected would take long.

He paused once he reached his destination. He swam up to the boulder, thrown off of the side just as he’d done on his first visit, and laid a hand on it. Hesitation climbed up his back, pulling at his shoulders as he stayed at the entrance. There was none of the fury that had propelled him inside the first time.

How differently would things be right now if he’d hesitated before?

Triton takes a few breaths, not shaky but measured, and makes his way into the destroyed grotto. He avoids the jutted rock in the center, the memory of Ariel’s sobs too much for him among the uncertainty of her safety, and instead goes to the shelves. There were marks all along the rock walls, with many of the items that were displayed along it also reflect the damage of his trident. Most of these human artifacts are unsalvageable, even to his ignorant eye, but try as he might, he cannot bring up any grief for the loss of them.

Truly, was even Ariel’s grief over the loss of her artifacts? It is what he has been telling himself ever since he made the mistake of looking back, but as her disappearance continues, it’s starting to sound unsure. Some of his daughters had an affinity for dramatics, so Ariel’s initial screams had little weight on him. But then he had seen how her body had shaken with her sobs, at how she had absolutely hidden her face from his direction… and doubt had gotten its claws in. That had been no tantrum cry, there had been no hold out to display her trembling lips, there had been no tactic to how heartwrenching her echoed screams had sounded.

Would he have reacted the same way if any of his other daughters held the same secret? He tilts his head back, looking up and into the far above opening that gives the grotto its light. He doesn’t like to think of the rest of his daughters having secrets of this magnitude, but feels like that is an exercise he must do. Especially if his ruminations conclude that any of her sisters might have been an accomplice, and even moreso might have an idea as to where she is now… he has to let himself imagine.

To begin with, Andrina had always seemed closest to Ariel in his eyes, or better said the most playful. The dark blonde had inherited her mother’s wit, although she holds no memory of Athena. Growing up, Alana used to remark to him of how much her humor was like Athena, and initially he had waved it off as sentiment in the princess. In the last couple of years, he had to admit that her quick remarks were haunting echoes of his wife, and maybe that had softened him too much. Andrina had developed a hunger for history, combine that with her eel-like facility at sneaking, and it’s a role model for disaster towards Ariel.

But for all the headaches Andrina gives him, she seemed to take his warnings against the surface seriously. The last time a guard had reported to him that she’d been skimming the surface had been well over five years ago, although he was hesitant to pin that adventure on wanting to interact with humans. It had been far out in open water, with both Arista and Ariel in tow, and Arista had pleaded it was to see a migrating school. He’d still given them a due lecture, reminding them that the farther out they went, the larger the ships that could ruin them.

With that memory, his review of Arista is brief. She was the quietest of the seven, wasn’t easily pushed to dramatics, tantrums, or even explosions of temper. She’d always been an easily pleased child, and had turned into a young woman that took simple pleasures. She was sociable and while she had no overwhelming interests that had been brought to his attention, she also didn’t hold any lack of intellect for him to be concerned. Triton had been told by many nannies and maids that the blonde did try to reel in her two younger siblings, but they were an overwhelming force of nature even on their own.

No, Arista definitely would have never known about the grotto. Andrina was far more likely to have hidden something like this. Still, the accusation didn’t feel completely right on his tongue. He was a reasonable merman, he couldn’t be confronting his daughters over something so serious simply on judge of their character.

His thoughts continue to his next daughter, Aquata. He scoffs at the thought that she would have kept secret about Ariel’s hunts for human artifacts. Although she was fourth in line, the nineteen year old could easily be mistaken as older with her seriousness. She was also the only one of his daughters that had taken a gleam to military life, having finished her second contract only a few months back and eager to start her third even with the unrest washing through the ocean. Attina aside, she was the only other daughter that he knew understood without question the severity of his restrictions to the surface.

That brings Adella into consideration. If Aquata could be mistaken for older, then Adella could easily be thought of as younger than her twenty years. She had inherited her mother’s knack for charm and gaiety, having used them liberally in her rise in social events. When she was younger, he had been concerned she would only care with having fun and discarding responsibility. Thankfully, his concern was unnecessary in that respect. Without him noticing – or him paying attention – Adella had become well-known and welcome in schools. Not the prestigious universities and colleges like Attina and Alana, but the schools that held countless young merpeople, ‘guppies’ as her generation nicknamed them.

She couldn’t have been in on Ariel’s secret. Not only would it be a massive disrespect to her mother’s passing, an event that she had unfortunately suffered the most in processing, but it didn’t fit with the maturity she’d been displaying. She’d been taking more responsibilities in helping mold the minds of the youth, so much that he was anticipating the day when she announced her career choice, and to let the mind of her own blood fall to human rot? Disappointment didn’t even begin to cover how it made him feel.

All that remains are his two eldest, Attina and Alana. His heir and her right hand. It was no secret that Attina planned to make her sister her firstmost advisor when she took the throne, and Alana had certainly lived up to the expectation. As a senator had distastefully mentioned last year, should something happen to Attina, Alana was more than suited to step up to the duty. The idea that either of them would allow Ariel to collect human items so freely was impossible. Regretfully, Attina had inherited his temper, but as such he knew she would have never allowed such disobedience from Ariel if it could be helped. Alana might have forgiven such behavior when Ariel was younger, but even her patience had limits, and bringing forth the eldest’s temper – much less his own – would have swiftly met it.

His swim around the grotto, inspecting the items with a disdainful eye, was coming to its close. With it, his examinations of his daughters. While it was impossible that any of them save Andrina might have hidden such a rebellion on their own or along with Ariel’s, the anger gathering deep in his chest also granted him reprieve. His reaction to Ariel had not been unjust in comparison to her sisters, even as he could admit now that it was more emotional than he would have liked. That conclusion did bring forward the unfortunate thought that Ariel could not have been acting alone to have such a full grotto, and Andrina was the only other princess that could keep up with her quick swims.

The alternative was that this secret had a much longer history than Sebastian had told him. That was a betrayal he could not begin to process.


	6. day three, pt 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the ghost! life got really in the way. everything's good now, so we're gonna be back to our weekly updates xoxo

“Here, Miss Ariel, put on these heels, see if that helps.” Ariel lifted her skirts and stared down the reflection of her feet as she tried to slip on the shoes without falling over. Her balance was still touch and go, and being elevated like this didn’t help any. But the extra centimeters were enough to stop the dinner dresses from dragging on the floor, so she supposed they were worth it.

Typically, she would try to convince Carlotta to let her wear the shorter morning dresses, to no avail, but the housekeeper had sent a young maid tonight. The girl didn’t seem much older than herself, taking all the playful fight out of Ariel with her cautious smile. Unlike the housekeeper, the maid was quiet and carefully measured her words when she did speak. It shouldn’t have been disappointing, as it seemed the treatment of servants didn’t vary on the surface, but it still left a pout on her lips.

Once Ariel had gotten her feet fully into the shoes, the maid quickly got on her knees and closed the clasps. Ariel made sure to stand still as the maid moved around her straightening her stockings, arranging her petticoats, and all the other tugs and pulls that came with human clothing. It was infuriating and thus far her least favorite thing of the surface world. While she could admit that there was something to be appreciated about the final look, she didn’t understand it much.

There was much to still learn about humans on their own. She would have to find out a way to ask all her questions without seeming like more of an oddity than she was already. For starters, why was it that they insisted on so many layers of cloth? It’s not like this kingdom was particularly cold, often times she could actually feel certain parts of her body getting wet. But it wasn’t really wet, not like from a bath or letting her toes get dipped by seawater. She had no idea what to call it, but it was more likely to happen the more layers she wore and it made her feel so terribly uncomfortable. She supposed that might be why humans changed their cloths so often, but that just made her questions why they didn’t choose lighter cloths from the start of the day.

Sometimes, if she thought about things like that too much, it just gave her a headache. It made her doubt that she’d ever really learn and understand all that there was to humans.

“Miss Ariel, will you want your reticule or just your journal for dinner?” Ariel directed an open hand towards the journal, which was promptly put into her grasp, and gave a quick nod of thanks. “Are you quite sure you wouldn’t want to have your hair gathered up?” She wished she could laugh at the maid’s hesitancy. Even though her hair was certainly heavier on land than it ever was in the sea, she wanted to hold off having to put it up for as long as possible. She rarely put it up underwater and she wasn’t looking to break that habit if she could help it. Ariel simply nodded at the girl and made her way towards the door, effectively stopping any additional questions as the maid moved to open the door for her.

She knew by now the path to get to the dining hall and she much preferred walking alone either way. Walking alone if it wasn’t Eric with her, better said. His company was always welcome, even if it was silent besides her. They really hadn’t spent any time together today as he’d warned, so she would be more than happy with whatever she could get. While she was endlessly curious about the surface world, she was also curious about him in a way she’d never known one could be about another person. It was different from getting invested on a new school subject, or even the rare contraptions that found their way to her grotto.

When she thought about knowing Eric, she wanted to know everything. She wanted to know more than just what made him happy or what made him sad. She wanted to know more about the experiences that influenced his choices. She wanted to know about what his plans for the future were. And then she also wanted to know about the inconsequential. She wondered about what his favorite color was, or what his favorite thing to do on a rainy day was. She wanted to know if he had a favorite corner of the castle, if he had kept any childhood memento and the story behind it. She wanted to know him inside and out, and in turn let him have the same privilege about her.

It would be endlessly easier to accomplish if she could talk, but it wasn’t hopeless. As she’d been reminding herself just about her entire time on the surface, there were other ways to converse without speaking. She had her journal, she had her facial expressions, and Eric was thankfully a very smart human. They would work something out, and maybe even end up with something that would be uniquely theirs. The thought made a grin bubble up on her face, hands tightening around her journal in excitement.

The dining hall came into view and within seconds the footmen spotted her, opening the doors with practiced ease. She immediately sought out Eric’s face, shoulders pulling back all the happier at seeing the grin that blossomed on his face. He stood to pull out her chair, but to her great disappointment didn’t make any move to give her a kiss. She decided not to listen to her insecurities and instead chalk it up to Grimsby’s presence, as the old man was eating with them once more. Further calming her worries was that once Eric took his seat again, he immediately took her hand in his and gave a quick squeeze.

“How was your day, Ariel?”

She gave a thumbs up and made small waving movements with her free hand, hoping it would come through correctly as reading a book. She didn’t want to let go of Eric’s hand just yet to write.

“Oh, you found the library, then?” She nodded eagerly. “That’s good! Hopefully reading through there will help jog your memory faster.” Her smile waned, guilt creeping up at the reminder of the lie she was having to maintain. “You, ah,” Eric gave a quick look to Grimsby who was too busy filling his pipe to notice, “you were able to read just fine?” She nodded again and raised a curious eyebrow at the relieved slump his shoulders took.

Further questions were paused as the first set of dishes were brought out, and their hands had to separate. Grimsby took it upon himself to direct the conversation, and it was admittingly more advanced topics than her limited surface knowledge could follow. And so she zoned them out, focusing on making her way through the uniquely human meal instead. Maybe it would have been best to pay a little more attention. If she intended to stay on land for the rest of her life, especially by Eric’s side – and she did intend to do both – then it would be prudent to start learning more about these more mundane aspects as well.

She’d cross that bridge once she figured out what to tell them about her background.

* * *

Arista often felt like a middle child.

Technically, with her being the fifth of seven, the middle child was more rightfully Aquata’s title. When she really thinks about it, they can easily share the title. They were both eager for their father’s praise, but they went about it different ways. Aquata had chosen military, Arista choose compliancy. Aquata choose to be the one to continue their family’s service tradition, Arista chose to be the one that would never cause Triton undue stress. It got them the positive attention they craved, with the cherry on top of Attina’s support, and that was more than fine.

They, like most of their sisters, had long ago chosen to show their father a ‘different’ face. It wasn’t lying, as both Alana and Adella had reassured them repeatedly, but compartmentalizing. There was no reason why Triton had to know every little thing, every argument, every emotional whirl, that made up their lives. It was their duty as his daughters to help ease the burden of being king by not making fatherhood a burden as well. As such, it wasn’t so much a _different_ face that they shared with him, but a more _refined_ face.

“I mean, it’s not like I’m telling Father about every merman I kiss.” Adella had given a scoffing laugh at her own words. “That’s something that stays between us girls. It’s just easier for everyone if Father only sees what he wants to see. After all…”

His ocean, his rules. It was a mantra they were all familiar with.

Still, the eldest trio certainly never appeared to struggle for his attention like her and Aquata. The two youngest certainly didn’t have to put much effort forward either, although Triton certainly took to their antics differently. Where Alana got celebrations, Andrina got scoldings. Where Attina got more liberties, Ariel was kept on a tighter rope. And Adella…

Maybe Adella could be considered a middle child as well. She was certainly the more accessible of the elders. Attina was always just out of reach, always busy with additional tutors and then becoming more of a maternal figure than a sisterly figure after Athena’s passing. Alana, for all the praises the court had for her, seemed to be in Attina’s shadow. Not that Arista had ever heard her complain about it, but it hadn’t slipped past her that Alana was always _just_ behind her, helping reach that final stretch of legislation and social preparedness, with her sight always checking for affirmation from the heir.

As such, neither really were the sisters that any of the others found themselves going to for help in many of the ‘emotional whirls’ that bubbled up. Adella however, was always there to take them shopping, or indulge a sweet tooth in the midst of tears. Arista had trouble thinking of any accomplishments that had given her the same clout in court as Attina or Alana, but it felt that Father’s approval for Adella was a much more muted nature. She certainly never pushed up sand for all the antics the sisters were aware she participated in, but she also never pushed her way to the forefront of academia for all the resources available. To Arista, her older sister was happy to stay out of the spotlight that was Father’s attention.

Save for excruciating circumstances – continuous sleepless nights, being subjected to too many of Andrina’s pranks, helping Ariel retrieve some new human artifact with zero warning – Arista was also happy to receive simple, muted accolades from Triton. It was routine, it was guaranteed, it left her feeling accomplished, and all in all—it was better than nothing at all.

Except now none of them were getting anything. Attina and Alana were shut out of meetings as if they were children, Adella was getting more antsy with every passing hour, Aquata was sure to threaten them with drills at the end of the day, and Andrina was clearly ready to pick a fight with any of them. Arista had snapped back this morning over some muttered comment she couldn’t even remember, and Andrina hadn’t missed the opening to start throwing insults. If Aquata hadn’t twisted Andrina’s arm behind her back and separated them, Arista might have lost her composure and reduced them back down to wrestling five year olds.

This was quickly derailing into having her nerves turn into desperation and anger. It was making her overthink, as shown by the talk the night prior. But she had nothing else to do! She’d thought that speaking up would have her sisters quickly squash her idea, but then Adella had asked about Father’s magic and Attina had told them a crown secret, and, oh, she was swimming in circles! The update on the search had done nothing to help her, as obvious by how easily Andrina managed to antagonize her, and now she was sure she was jumping to conclusions.

The trident could only be wielded by the rightful ruler of Atlantica, and the line of inheritance went straight down the seven of them before branching off to their uncles and aunts of far-off seas. But it was also magic, and magic had a way of doing whatever it wanted. Who’s to deny that maybe Ariel used the trident on herself? Sure, sure, it was rare that it was ever really left alone in the vault or the throne room, and ever more rare that no one at all had seen Ariel grab it, but… She can’t stop thinking about it. It would totally be an Ariel move to take the trident and use those big blue goo-goo eyes to make it do what she wanted. Not that magic worked that way, she didn’t really know, and she wasn’t interested in magic no matter how much it sounded like they needed magic to find Ariel.

The only other alternative would be that Ariel has swam into the abyss, never to be seen again, living in the wild seaweed like a siren. Soon, her beautiful voice would be a haunting reminder of a thrown away youth as it echoed for the rest of their days and—

“Ow!”

“Thanks for checking back in, not like I’ve been trying to talk to you for the past fifteen minutes.”

Arista rubbed at her shoulder with a pout, the skin already turning a light pink at the punch Aquata had thrown. “Couldn’t you have just thrown a pillow at me? I mean, what if I bruise?”

“Where would I get a pillow?” The brunette threw her arms wide open, an unsubtle reminder that they had chosen to recluse themselves in the music room. “I’ll throw my drums at you next time you zone out like that, guppy. See how you bruise then.”

She stuck her tongue out in response. Aquata stuck hers out too. They both crossed their arms and glared. Naturally, Arista broke first, with a whimper. Aquata tried to hold out, from the way she turned her glare into a squint and even ended up covering her eyes. But Arista just whimpered louder until it could almost be considered a wail.

“Okay! Fine!” Her big sister came over in a flurry of bubbles and rubbed gentle circles where she’d punched her and kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry for hitting you so hard. If you do bruise, I will personally beg Alana to help me get the right cream so you don’t break out.” Arista preened a little, not caring that it cut the soft look in Aquata’s eyes short. “Does that make you feel better?” She nodded rapidly, and gave Aquata an exaggerated forehead kiss of her own as she swam up and away.

She sat at the cello and absently started to tune it, her fingers stinging at the unfamiliar plucks. “I’m also sorry for ignoring you. I was stuck thinking. What’cha wanna talk about?”

“Really? I mean, what else is there to talk about?”

“We could talk about how you really don’t need to do a third contract.”

“You know I do. Especially with the Strait how it is.”

“Uh, _no_ , Aquata. That’s the _exact_ reason why you _don’t_. Like, I get it, you want to make sergeant of the muddy flippers or whatever—”

“Thanks for understanding.”

“—But do you have to rush it so bad?” She plucked too quickly and now there were bubbles all over the string. She paused and wiped her hand down, puffing out her cheeks as she reined back her thoughts. “There’s always going to be some other promotion out there, like, why not just relax, you know?”

“Because the faster I can go up, the better chance I have at being on the council. And _you_ know how important that is for me.” Arista glared at the strings and continued plucking. “I won’t even be a candidate for Defense Advisor if I can’t make master sergeant in the next four years, and once Attina chooses her council, I won’t have another shot for at least fifteen years.”

“She could just like, make a decree, or like, hold out if you talked to her.”

“Oh sure, let me go running to my big sister to please give me a hand-out for the biggest career move ever. Come on, Arista, you know I’d never be taken seriously.”

“Why don’t you at least tell her that’s what you’re aiming for?”

“Are _you_ going to tell her you want to work in theater?”

Her shoulders slumped and she purposely plucked a series of low notes. “It’s not the same. She’ll be proud of you. I’ll be a disappointment. Even Ariel had a better career choice.”

Aquata paused at that, the halt feeling heavy. Arista looked up sharply, ready to rant about her bleak future when she registered that it wasn’t pity on the brunette’s face, but worry. The heaviness now had a target, the same target that had been filling up their fins with rocks. Arista bit her lip and looked back at the strings. Rather than talk, she began to play a slow if clumsy tune. Andrina was the cello player, but the deep notes seemed more fitting than her blowing into her horns.

“Why’d you say it like that?” Arista shrugged, continuing to play. “Father’s going to find her, and if he doesn’t, then it’s only a matter of time before some lord sends us a very apologetic note about her hiding on their farm.” The image only makes her pout, which quickly turns into her vision clouding, and then she can’t play because her chest is too tight.

The second she feels Aquata’s arms around her, she breaks. All the tears and squashed nerves she’d been holding back the last few days exploded, and all she could do was hug her sister tight. She doesn’t know how long they stand like that, Aquata shushing her softly as if this was just a bad dream and her absolutely wrapped around her sister’s torso as she sobbed. But she cries until she feels she can breathe again, even if her throat burns a little, and when she’s done, she doesn’t move away because now Aquata’s crying.

It’s quieter than her own breakdown, where Arista was wailing has Aquata whimpering as she sniffled. They switch easily, Aquata’s army short nails digging into her waist as her posture crumbles and Arista smoothly undoes her high ponytail to brush her fingers through the strands. Aquata doesn’t wrap around her, but she buries her head in her neck and keeps shaking it, as if trying to push off the cries. Arista pushes her head down and whispers, “It’s okay,” over and over and _over_ until her sister becomes limp as seaweed in her arms.

She holds her tight, lets her rest her weight without complaint. She hopes that wherever Ariel is, she has someone to hold her through it.


	7. day three, pt 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if it feels like i'm dragging day 3 out. i'm fully taking liberty of the fact that i can dig into everything my mind thinks about. thanks all for your patience again! xoxo

Human meals were confusing. In Atlantica they had breakfast, dinner, and supper. Only merpeople with absolutely nothing to do held or went to luncheons, as that was typically an event rather than just a meal. If there was to be a social event at night, supper tended to be forgone and the meal served was considered a late dinner. The dishes were, in comparison to the human meals she was being served, much smaller for their meals. With the exception, again, of luncheons or late dinners, but those were not so the norm.

There were multiple theories within their kind as to why they ate so little. They weren’t as limited in their meals as human lore suggested, merpeople were omnivores just like humans although they were more selective about what meats to incorporate. Some thought it might have to do with survival instincts as regular life for merpeople was traditionally much more mobile and to spend too much time eating made them more open to attacks. Others thought that it was due to there being so much other predatory competition in the seas that made them end up needing a smaller diet to keep going. There were another five different theories that she’d heard in the last three years alone.

Ariel didn’t concern herself too much on the topic. She wasn’t big on the sciences, and eating was never a worry of hers. Adella was really the only reason she knew what she did, as her older sister had ended up gaining more than a few centimeters on her waist when she’d started attending many more luncheons than even Alana did. The older mermaid had ended up going into a tizzy about it, and it was between Aquata’s sports training and Ariel’s ship excursions that she was able to drop it by her eighteenth birthday. She had talked Ariel’s ear off about the topic on those trips, so she maintained she’d learned the information completely against her will.

Either way, following human meals made her suffer both a headache and a stomachache.

They had breakfast, lunch, dinner, and supper, and the custom – or perhaps need? – of swallowing various liquids continuously throughout the day. Their days also ran a lot later than merpeople custom was, and the exhaustion of cutting her sleep short made keeping awake with a full stomach all the more difficult. Thankfully, she’d found that the liquid called café was not only delicious but always managed to perk her up just enough to keep going through the evening.

As it was, she was currently halfway through her second cup as they were waiting for the dolce to be brought out to finish the meal. Eric and Grimsby had been speaking about not just issues that they could understand, but also included her in basic questions about her day. She’d tried to go through her answers without her journal as much as possible, but after a close call with her pasta plate, she’d reverted to writing down much more. They were currently in a lull, a comfortable one as everyone sipped at their respective liquids, and she was trying to figure out which question to bring up.

“Miss Ariel, I have something to ask, if it isn’t too rude of myself.”

Ariel shook her head with a soft smile, giving Grimsby permission.

“You’re amazingly fluent in the Prince’s Italian and my own English.” Ariel scrunched her nose, a show of modesty at the praise. It was no secret that there were certain words she didn’t recognize, but apparently, they weren’t as much of a strike against her as she’d feared. Grimsby gave a good-natured chuckle at her expression. “Very well, you’re _conversational_ in both languages. You wouldn’t happen to know any others?”

She nodded as she was already writing out her answer. She pushed the journal to the center of the table, letting the men peer over her writing.

“ _‘Greek, French, and basic Spanish.’_ Wow!” Eric gave a low whistle, leaning back in his eat. “I’ve got Spanish down, but it would be ridiculous not to. French is terribly difficult, and I can’t really do anything else.” He raised an eyebrow with a one-shoulder shrug. “That’s what translators are for, aren’t they?”

Ariel rolled her eyes at that, having received that same response from Alana when she’d found her pouring over Latin text. She hadn’t listed it as that was even less basic than her Spanish, and she wasn’t the type to gloat. But her older sister had no idea on her aspirations to be on the expedition convoys, and there was no way to explain that to the humans before her. Eric caught her expression and gave a sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of his neck as he obviously tried to think up a different excuse to give.

“It’s obvious our guest of honor doesn’t share that sentiment. Which I am very thankful for—God knows it would be more useful of a skill than all the seafaring nonsense you insist on.” Ariel squinted with one eye dramatically, lifting a hand to give a horizontal wave of unsurity. “Trust me, my dear, a Prince and future King has much better use at learning cultural skills than those of labor.”

“I disagree, Grimsby, as much as you and Father turn your nose up at it, I think there’s some benefit to be found.” There was a shift in Eric’s voice, even as his posture remained relaxed. It peaked at Ariel’s attention, having heard the tone itself many time before but never from the human. It was a tone that her father and Attina used when they wanted to get things done, when they wanted to make sure that there was no question to what their expectations were. It was, undeniably, the tone of a ruler putting their stake in the ground. However, where her family always changed their face, changed the set of their shoulders, and if pushed could just about make the water heat around them, Eric gave no obvious sign of changing.

In that moment, it struck Ariel – really struck her – that Eric was not a spare like Adella, and certainly not even farther below like herself in inheritance. He was an heir, the next head of his nation. Eric had to have practiced the same fine social arts that Attina and Alana had spent their lives fine-tuning. He might be younger than them, but in that moment, she could see him easily commanding a room like her sisters. Like her father.

She gave a quick shake of her head, tuning back to the conversation that had progressed without her. Just in time, as Grimsby gave an irritated puff of his pipe in response to whatever Eric had just said. The older man directed his attention back to the redhead, pausing to puff more calmly into his pipe before speaking.

“In your home, do you remember if you had a monarchy?” Grimsby’s eyebrows were raised, and the set of his eyebrows made her hesitate in her answer. Atlantica and Pacifica had been ruled by monarchs for… as long as any merperson was still alive. There might have been a different ruling system, once upon a time, but she’s certain the only ones that recall it would be historians. Grimsby’s question led her to think that such was not the case on land, adding yet another thing to her mental checklist.

In the end of those long five seconds, Ariel simply frowned deeply and shrugged.

“Do you remember anything at all about your home? A name, climate, food even?”

That made her eagerly nod, but it was cut short as she recalled once again that she had to be careful on what she actually told them. Her movements were hesitant as she mimed out feeling warm, a hand fanning at her face and the other wiping across her forehead. It took a few more moments of her forcibly mouthing out the word before Eric guessed it with a snap of his fingers. 

“It was warm? That’s all? Nothing else comes to mind?”

She hesitates again. She would love to share all that was her home with Eric, and Grimsby as well for he hadn’t shown any reason to not be trustworthy. She wanted to tell him about the concerts her sisters held, or the different seahorse races her friends goaded her into last year, or how Attina’s winter romance with an Island Sea senator had made Adella insufferable. She could describe in exact detail the different mountains and valleys, the forests and flowers, the overwhelming and vastly different fishes that made the sea her home. But for all her excitement to let him fully into her world, she needed to be careful. This was not something to go headfirst into.

It’s too much for her to mime, so she grabs her journal and writes quickly. ‘I would spend a lot of time swimming in the ocean with my sisters. It was never too cold to spend the day out.’

“That’s promising information. That narrows your home to not much more north than here.”

Eric nodded at Grimsby’s words. “You most likely also lived near the coast. Unless, I mean, how often do you remember going out swimming?”

Ariel shrugged. She’d never thought she’d get tired of the motion. She might just have to camp out in the library tonight to get more research done. What she wouldn’t give to have another merperson with her to shift through the information.

“That’s alright. I’m sure Grimsby agrees, you’ve already given us so much. Hopefully with some more days of rest you’ll be able to share even more information. Are you alright otherwise? Do you need more of the physician’s medicine?”

Ariel couldn’t hold back making a face. Her first day on land had included a checkup from a human physician, and that wasn’t an experience she was exactly excited to repeat. The man had given her a vial filled with a bitter, thick liquid, instructing her to take two spoonfuls at day. The only way she’d taken the last two days dosages was thanks to Carlotta very well pushing the spoon down her throat. She shook her head in the end and gave a thumbs up among their gentle laughter.

“He’ll be called back soon either way, once you finish the dosage. Doctor Cressentini did advise it should only have a life of five days. Perhaps when he performs his checkup, he’ll be able to recommend a treatment for your memory.”

Ariel had no choice but to agree. She wondered if the library would hold any medical books she could use to help draw out answering any questions. Her sigh was both at having to subject to a future checkup and at expanding her checklist yet again. Before they could continue discussing her memory loss, their conversation was halted by the final arrival of their dolce.

* * *

Her sisters underestimated her. Perhaps not all of them, and she would hope rarely all at the same instance. Generally speaking, they didn’t consider her as “abled” or “mature” or whatever adjective was being used on Attina and Alana. It was fine. It was exactly how Adella wanted it. She was more than confident in her true self-worth, her capabilities, and it worked out much better for her if everyone truly thought she was just as disconnected from current affairs as Arista. (Not that the blonde was either. Adella had proof-read more than a handful of expository essays to know much better.)

Being third in line didn’t put her under the same microscope as Alana, but the anonymity was nowhere close to Andrina’s. (Ariel’s likeliness to their beloved late mother snatched most of her last-born privacy.) So, she had to work at getting to the point where _she_ was comfortable. It might have gathered more than a few heart-to-hearts with both elder princesses once she’d really started turning the tide at fourteen, but now at twenty, they had both accepted it. (Alana in particular had quickly turned more understanding and supportive. After all, if it hadn’t been for her help, Adella would have had a much harder time getting their younger sisters on the same seahorse.)

Her younger sisters had disappeared not too long after breakfast, and Attina had gone away to her study to “get some work finished.” (It either meant she was perfecting drafts that both Alana and whatever politician she was working with had already agreed on, or she was jumping ahead of the curve due to their castle confinement, or she was just stewing over a book to hold off the breakdown sure to come.) She had spent some time in a companionable quiet with Alana, her sister reading a book while she stared at the ceiling. Their topics for small talk held no interest currently, and she was also just a little bit-kinda-sorta totally sure that Alana was still ticked off with her letting the whole ‘magic’ talk overflow last night. But could she really blame her?

Adella was a little guilty of having pushed Andrina in questioning their history, of using well-timed dares and challenges to get the competitive mermaid to dive into books deep within their library. It wasn’t without selfish interest—she needed someone that wasn’t Attina (Who was actually, completely brainwashed at having to accept history without anything more than a, “Yes, sir.”) to actually talk about it. She was always buzzing with questions, wanting to know more and talk about all the different what-if’s that their culture was full of. (She would have loved to get both Andrina _and_ Ariel in on it, but Ariel had long ago been so romanced by the human world that she gave just barely more interest than the average public citizen.) King Ira’s decision to ban all use of magic, save that originating from the royal family, was one of her main points of interest.

(Well, King Ira in general was a big point of interest to her. It was also Attina’s. One would think that such a mutual interest would be grounds for more conversation between them. Surprise—it wasn’t.)

Once Attina confirmed one of the many, nearly infinite, abilities of the trident, she had been a bit slow to stop the tide. Her mind had already started swimming at all the other theories that little pebble of information had, potentially, confirmed for her. It was an act of Poseidon that she’d clued back in time to hold off Andrina’s jump at their big sister. The fact that Alana directed for Aquata to take over the room at her exit hadn’t been missed by her. She didn’t hold any jealousy or grudges against her younger sister, the girl put in more than enough effort to justify her rewards by all means, but she knew what Alana’s message had been underneath it all. (How many times had they scolded her for not doing more to control the other princesses? How many times had they failed to see that for all the work they put into being the ‘bad guy,’ she had to put in double to make sure the girls still knew they were loved? Sometimes, she felt like the only one that really honored Athena’s kindness.)

But, whatever. Bubbles in the water, and all that. Adella had left the sitting room eventually, but hadn’t done much more than wander the halls. She’d checked a few rooms, but it hadn’t taken until the fourth empty room for her to finally realize what she was looking for. Now equipped with a target, her search gained in intensity. By the time she’d reached the south wing, she’d not only found Andrina but also gotten her to join her search.

“Hey—have you asked Arista?”

“Uh, no. I haven’t found her yet, actually.”

“You said you’ve done—”

“—West and South, I mean, Alana and I were in the sitting room when I left so you know,” she motioned counter-clockwise, “working my way through it.”

“She’s probably in the music room, or out in the garden.”

“I didn’t see her in the West Gardens, though.” She’s followed her younger sister, however. Thankfully, she wasn’t the one that Andrina was mad at, so her stream of consciousness didn’t bring out much response. “Do you mean the North Gardens?”

Andrina nodded, swimming much quicker than Adella could comfortably follow. Damn her, she was surely doing this to get her to shut up. Maybe the blonde was a little mad at her for having held her down. “She likes that one better now.”

“Weird.”

“I guess.” They’re at the entryway to the music room, and the teenager had the audacity to smirk at Adella’s deep breathing. “Gee, sis, what’s the matter? Too fast?”

“Shut up.” The brunette had an arm out against the doorway, neck held up only by pride even as her cheeks are blossoming. “This isn’t a racetrack, you’re going to get hurt on one of those turns one day.” Andrina shrugged, and gave her a few more seconds to collect herself. She smoothed down her bangs and tightened her ponytail, poking the blonde harshly on the forehead as she swam through the seaweed curtain. “Brat.”

Passing into the room, Arista’s platinum blonde was easy to make out among the various instruments in the large room. She swam over quickly, calling, “Arista, have you—oh!” Poised over her drums, Aquata halted mid-speech to blink over at Adella. “Aquata! You’re here too! Good, two for one!”

“Is something wrong?” Arista had been taking apart one of her thinner horns, but her usual care for the instruments was forgone in her worry as she quickly stood. “Is Daddy back?”

“No, not yet.” Adella gently rubbed the younger’s arm with a soft smile, retracting her arm to look between the now three princesses as Andrina joined them. “He’s not supposed to be back until later tonight, hopefully. Well, I’m sure he’ll be back by then.” Arista’s bite on her bottom lip was growing increasingly tighter with her every word. Adella gave a firm shake of her hands and arms. “Nothing’s wrong, not more than already, I hope. What I mean is, I don’t _think_ something else is wrong, but something else _could_ be wrong.”

Aquata scoffed, fully leaning her forearms on the drums. “Oh, great.”

“Shut up. Nothing is _officially_ wrong, okay, I just think something _could_ be wrong, and I need your help to make sure it _isn’t_ wrong.”

“Are you ever going to explain yourself?”

“Wait!” Arista turned sharply towards Andrina, grabbing her younger sister’s shoulders in a tight grip. She pulled her in close, and Adella barely stifled a laugh at how Andrina crossed her eyes. “Don’t you know already?”

“Yeah.”

“So, why don’t you tell us?”

“It’s kind of fun hearing Adella think out loud.”

At that response, Arista’s marked concern swiftly turned into rage. Adella didn’t think that she would murder Andrina, but they’d come far too close to a brawl earlier. (For all that Aquata and Arista continuously bicker, Arista was much less hesitant to play the submissive with either Andrina or Ariel. Until blood was spilt, Adella wasn’t about to question their way of doing things.) To save all of them from another repeat, Adella shouted, “Has anyone seen Sebastian?”

That brought them to a halt, but Andrina remained with her arms locked. Arista tilted her head, giving a faint hum as she thought. “Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen him since the concert.”

“Daddy called him to the throne room the day after.” Andrina spoke up, without any hesitancy that any shred of a survival instinct should have given her. It would probably do her well to remember that merpeople had been, could be, and are predators. “After Ariel was going around all water-brained. Even Attina noticed.”

“Oh, yeah. She was acting weird that morning.” Aquata swiftly came from behind her drums to free the youngest. Andrina stuck her tongue out once she was liberated, but now Arista was more interested in listening than fighting. “What was it you said, Andrina, you said she was—?”

“She was clearly in love. Wasn’t I right, Adella?”

“From my opinion? Definitely. Sucks to be that merman right now. I mean, kind of sucks to be _anyone_ that knew Ariel right now. But, anyways, we can all agree that we haven’t seen Sebastian like, pretty much since Ariel disappeared?”

It took a few seconds for the mermaids to think, and each second felt like a they were ripping her scales off. They did end up nodding in unison, so she picked her thoughts right back up.

“I’ve gone through the West and South wings, and although we’ve still got to go through the North and East wings, I haven’t seen him, like, at all. I bet you his fish are still in the stables, too. So… where is Sebastian?”


End file.
